Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Perhaps I spend too much time looking at other people’s feet on my journey to and from work, but I do share that time also looking at their clothes and into shop windows to see anything that I like. A common thought bubble over my head is “that’s totally cute” as I walk past something that takes my fancy, whether a complete outfit on a real person which I could emulate (or not, and in that case, kudos to them) or a freshly clad mannequin.

But it always seems to be the feet that irk me.

Perhaps it’s because it’s one of the only things you can see properly when you are walking behind someone. (Unless you do a hasty walk-past and check them out slyly from the side – although I do not recommend sideways glances when taking in fashion.) But back to the feet. Moreover, the shoes, and the abuse thrust upon them by said feet.

We’ve talked before about young ladies about town who can’t wear heels. But what of the experienced wearer, who has obviously spent years of their life ruining good shoes because they walk with such ineloquence. These are the heels I see bending every which way, being worn down inside or out, and being scuffed along the ground like the slippers of a tantrum-prone child.

These walkers look so precarious from behind, you wonder why they persevere with heeled shoes. If you can’t manage to keep your knees over your toes or your ankles upright, perhaps a flatter shoe or wedge is in order. Don’t take your pigeon-toed gams out on lovely heels. Their only wish is to work in your favour and in return they are treated not in kind, but by short life spans of abuse!